Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
JADE
I hadn’t had the chance to ask Aaron to help me get a new phone before he’d rushed off yesterday.
He’d left me feeling shaken, afraid, and I had made up a plate of food and taken it to my room before Annie emerged from her shower, needing the safety of the thick wooden door to let me breathe freely.
But I had to have a phone. And I couldn’t leave to go into town.
I was sure that once I did, I wouldn’t be allowed to set foot back inside.
Annie would come to her senses and lock the door behind me.
And if I was spotted… if he found me… I couldn’t risk it.
The rushed foray into the loft had turned out to be a waste of time.
I hadn’t picked the right box, it had turned out, though I’d been so hopeful I’d finally got what I’d come for.
I knew there was a more likely option. I needed to go into her bedroom.
I’d seen all those papers spread out on every surface when I’d walked in on her frantically searching for something the day after I arrived.
I didn’t know if she’d found whatever it was, as she’d given no clue as to the outcome.
But that was where she kept the things that were most important.
I paced back and forth, watching my tiny daughter sleeping, her jet-black hair already long enough that it was curling into tiny ringlets, framing her perfect face.
I wondered if I’d made the wrong choice.
If I’d already failed her. I couldn’t relax as I waited for Annie to go outside, as she always did, to pick up that shovel.
My nerves felt frayed, my heart constantly racing, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway a persistent reminder of how long I’d already been here – how little time I had left.
I heard a door opening and rushed to the bedroom window, but it was Aaron, not Annie, I saw heading outside. Scooping Amala into my arms, I rushed down to meet him, letting myself out just as he opened his car door, parked up on the lane outside.
‘Aaron,’ I said breathlessly, rushing through the gate to intercept him. ‘Where are you heading?’
He paused, straightening as he looked at me, confusion written all over his face. ‘Um, into town,’ he replied. ‘I have some things to attend to.’
I nodded, feeling stupid, vulnerable, but knowing he was my only option.
‘I really need a favour. My phone got broken, and I need a new one urgently. I know it’s a massive ask, but do you think you could pick one up for me?
’ I reached into my pocket, pulling out a wedge of cash.
‘I’ll pay, of course. I just… I really need one – today .
Anything they have; it doesn’t need to be fancy.
I have a SIM,’ I added, grateful that I’d been able to retrieve it from the debris Annie had left on the kitchen floor. ‘Just any Android phone. Please?’
He stared at me, and I waited for the onslaught of questions, the moment he would tell me to go and get my own phone and leave his friend in peace, but instead he reached for the money in my outstretched hand. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he said, his voice almost gentle.
I blinked in surprise. He’d made it clear I was unwelcome here. I’d expected him to argue. What had changed? Where was the warning in his tone that I’d learned to anticipate?
I nodded, stepping back as he climbed into his car. I watched him drive away, then headed back inside, hoping he wouldn’t let me down.
The floorboards creaked under my bare feet, and I tensed but kept moving forward, knowing it might be my only chance.
Annie’s door had been closed, but like mine it had only a bolt on the inside, no key.
I’d feigned tiredness after sharing a plate of tuna sandwiches with her in the kitchen, heading up to nap with Amala as she finally went outside to take up her shovelling.
She should be a while. Hours. But I had to leave no trace.
I couldn’t let her suspect I’d been in here.
I tiptoed across the thick carpet to the dresser, sliding open the drawers one at a time, pausing after each one to listen, for both Amala and the sound of Annie coming back in. I didn’t want a repeat of yesterday, when I’d cut it far too fine.
The light coming through the window cast soft buttery beams on the pale cream duvet cover, and with the window flung wide, all I could hear was birdsong and the occasional flutter of the curtain rustling against the wall in the breeze.
It felt like the middle of nowhere out here, even with the little village a short walk away.
I’d barely seen a car this whole week, aside from Aaron’s.
The ramblers took a path at the bottom end of the lane, and I’d yet to see any venture up this far.
Annie and Aaron were in their own private world up here, and it was clear that I was interrupting.
I turned back to the drawers. They were filled with all manner of trinkets, diaries and old letters, and I rifled quickly through them, putting everything back just as I’d found it.
I walked over to the wardrobe, twisting the handle, only to find it locked.
I cast around for a key, sure that it must be close.
Why would she lock her wardrobe? What did she have in there?
Hope surged inside me, and I twisted the handle more roughly, frustrated when it didn’t budge.
I spun, looking around, my gaze falling on the bedside cabinet.
Moving quickly, I pulled open the drawer, hoping to see a tiny key to grant me access.
There was nothing but notes, scraps of paper covered in sloppy, disjointed handwriting, a purple ballpoint pen tossed on top of them, an inky blot marring the words.
Looking closer, I saw a list of plants, no doubt her upcoming plans for the garden.
I sighed, sliding the drawer back into place, but it jammed on something stuck behind it.
Bending low, I reached into the gap, prising out a rigid A5 cardboard-backed envelope.
I was sure it wasn’t what I was after, but I glanced into it anyway, wanting to be thorough.
And suddenly I realised what Annie must have been searching for that day.
I also knew that there was no way she had found it.
Because if she had , she would have known instantly who I was.
I held the photograph pinched between my fingers, my own eyes staring back at me.
I was wearing a classic white satin dress, my long light-brown hair curled around my face, a bouquet of pale pink roses clutched in my white-lace-gloved hands.
I held my breath, shocked to find it here.
I’d had no idea Annie might have known about the wedding.
Why hadn’t she said anything before? It didn’t make sense!
She’d told me she was suspicious of who I was, that she wanted me to admit my connection to her ex, but if she’d seen this picture, the accompanying card, she would have known the truth.
Known exactly who I was the moment I walked through that gate.
Had she forgotten the details? Had she really lost her mind?
I pushed the drawer closed, checking that there was no evidence of my snooping, and, casting a frustrated glance at the impenetrable wardrobe, straightened up, shoving the photograph back into the envelope.
I would take it to my room to hide away.
I couldn’t risk her finding it while I was still under her roof.